


shame on me

by portraitofwlw



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional unavaliablity, F/F, Hints at shivs trauma, I dont care that theres no canonical basis for this take some gay shiv roy, Mentions of tomshiv and connor, Porn With Plot, Smut, The roy family is like a spider web, Willa being fed up with everyone, impossible to get out of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/portraitofwlw/pseuds/portraitofwlw
Summary: OhWilla thinks,that's why she's here.
Relationships: Willa Ferreyra/Siobhan "Shiv" Roy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	shame on me

**Author's Note:**

> this is a gift for my amazing oomf belén...you're welcome to her and to all my lesbian shiv roy enthusiasts

Connor loses Iowa. Badly. Not that he really had a fighting chance, but it's embarrassing, even for him. Two hundred votes. He barely managed to get on the ballot. It's the last straw for Logan, who had begrudgingly let Connor keep going until the first primary. Wasting money on frivolous decadence, that's one thing, but pouring 300 million into a campaign for less than one percent? That's pathetic. That makes you a loser. So Logan suggests he drop out, gives him the illusion of choice when there really isn't one. It's not a suggestion, it's a threat and a reprimand wrapped up into one. A slap upside the head and a reminder that Connor should stay at the bottom of the pecking order where he belongs. When he comes home that night he hangs his head like an abandoned puppy and curls up against her on the couch. It disgusts Willa a bit. 

He decides the announcement will be from Austerlitz, the same place where he declared he was running. It screams, "if I can't have the presidency, at least I can keep my money." Willa is supposed to go with him, is supposed to stand at his side like the rest of the politician's wives do ( _wife_...the word makes her skin crawl) but her play is closing the same day, and she refuses to miss it. Connor tries to guilt her, but she puts her foot down for once. She's fucking tired of this political bullshit. 

So Connor flies off to Austerlitz with only his campaign manager and analyst in tow that Friday. He doesn't even say goodbye to Willa that morning to remind her he's still pissed. 

_But not pissed enough to fire her_ , she tells herself, because that's what this is: a job, not a relationship.

Maybe she should feel more sympathy towards him, his "dreams" are being shattered, and his family life is in shambles. They still don't know if Logan is going to jail or not, and what he'll do if he doesn't. The company is in limbo, and battle lines have been drawn between Kendall and Logan. Brother or Father. But she doesn't feel sympathetic towards any of them. All she feels is resentment that Connor dragged her into all this, and anger towards herself that she let it happen.

It's guilt that makes her turn on Connor's livestream when she gets home from the closing performance, not love. He'll ask her how he sounded and if he looked professional and sincere, and Willa decides it better to just watch it than think about an excuse for why she didn't. The play had been bumped to the 5 o'clock slot after its less than stellar first two weeks, the biggest fuck you she could possibly recieve, so she can't tell him she was there, and if she tells him she went out with the cast after he'll ask around to check. Watching it is the only option she has. 

She's already in a lousy mood when the livestream connects, and a knock at the door guarantees her mood is about to get worse. She thinks it's probably one of her actors planning to try and drag her out to closing celebrations. As she stomps over to the door, the countdown to Connor's speech playing over the soundsystem, she prepares herself to appear cheery, yet tired, so she can convince whoever's at the door that she's only staying in to sleep and watch her boyfriend's speech. If she looks too tired they'll be concerned, and if she looks too happy they'll insist she leave. It's a delicate balancing act.

"Good thing you're not an actress" --is the greeting the voice on the other side of the door gives her, "because that was the fakest smile I've seen in my life. You should work on that." 

Shiv stands there, a bottle of red wine in her hand, looking at Willa expectantly. She's dressed more casually than she usually is at the office, but nowhere near comfortable. She is wearing blue jeans though-- which Willa didn't even think she owned. They haven't seen each other since the yacht, and Willa thinks she looks more worn down. 

"Come in." Willa says instead of _what the hell are you doing here_ , because her instinct to be polite has yet to fade, stepping back from the door, and gesturing to the apartment. 

"Thanks." Shiv waltzes in and sets the bottle down on the counter like she owns the place. It's not that far from the truth-- she has the same amount of claim to the apartment as Connor, meaning next to none. Neither of them really own anything, it's all Logan's money. That makes Willa pity them a little.

Willa follows her in and gets two glasses from the cabinet, placing them next to the bottle so Shiv can pour. She fills the glasses a little too much, and Willa makes a mental note to only drink one tonight. When Shiv hands her a glass, their fingers brush briefly. For anyone else that would be accidental, but Willa doubts Shiv has breathed without weighing about the pros and cons of that decision. When she catches her eyes, Shiv just smiles at her. Whatever it means, her ability to make her feel exposed is unnerving. Connor might be the one who pays her bills but he's never had this aura of power around him.

Shiv takes her own glass and wanders into the living room where the live stream is pulled up on the flat screen. A folk song is playing over a slideshow of pictures from Connor's event, and the countdown says there's only two minutes before he speaks.

"Jesus Christ, who does he think he is? Reagan?" Shiv says, laughing.

She sits on the couch, and Willa follows her lead, perching herself on the opposite end. 

"Why are you here?" She remembers to ask.

"I thought we'd both celebrate my dear brother's departure from the world of politics."

Willa is stuck between laughing and shuddering, because even when she agrees with Shiv, there's an edge to her that's terrifying; like she's always waiting for the perfect weakness to press, the piece of information to levy over you. She gets the feeling that Shiv wants her to admit she's fed up with Connor, but that she'd just as soon complain with her as sell her out. 

"I'll drink to that." Is what she settles on, because it's vague enough not to get her in any trouble if Shiv turned out to be wearing a wire connected straight back to Connor's ear. 

"Cheers." Shiv raises her glass, and the video starts. 

Five minutes in and Willa already wants to turn it off. 

Connor is getting too emotional, sharing anecdotes and going off script and tearing up when he talks about meeting "Conheads" and it's giving her the worst second hand embarrassment she's ever had. Not to mention Shiv hasn't said anything, and Willa can't risk looking at her, so they just sit in silence, watching Connor make a fool of himself on a national scale. He brings up Willa not long after-- of course he does-- and she can't fight the impulse to put her head in her hands. She's not the love of his life, she's on his payroll.

"This is awful." She mumbles.

Shiv nods and grabs the bottle.

"More wine?"

Willa pushes her glass towards her. So much for one drink.

After what feels like a century, Connor's campaign manager starts speaking, and from the look on Shiv's face, she doesn't like him very much. Willa is tempted to turn the TV off altogether.

"Do you know him?"

"Unfortunately." 

Things fall into a tense silence, and Willa thinks she's said the wrong thing. Politics have been a sensitive topic with Shiv since she was fired from Gil's team, even though she's tried to hide it.

Willa's second glass of wine is almost empty because she's been using it as a crutch, and she's starting to feel the effects. Shiv isn't much better, well into her second glass and not slowing down. Willa wonders again why she's here. There's no way it's just to get drunk and watch Connor's mess of a speech, they don't know each other well enough to make it any fun.

"Do you charge by the minute or per fuck?" Shiv asks her out of the blue, looking at her for the first time since they've sat down.

The question takes Willa off guard, and she's not quick enough to keep it from showing on her face.

"Uh, per session."

Shiv laughs, the bitch. 

"I guess that makes sense, if you charged per minute you'd be making pennies."

Willa chuckles along with her, because it's true.

"How much would it be if I wanted to fuck you right now?"

Willa can feel the blood rise in her face. An unexpected development. But what makes her blush more is that it's not necessarily unwelcome. _So that's why she's here._

"200." 

"Ok." She says and leans back in her chair, giving no indication that she plans on moving anytime soon. Willa can't help but look at her to try and figure out what kind of game she's playing. "Good to know." 

She turns her head back to the TV screen, a smirk on her lips. Willa wants to slap her.

A few more seconds of what's-his-name, Connor's beloved campaign advisor, speaking about the honor of serving on the campaign "for the people" and getting to work with the "visionary" that is Connor Roy (the biggest lie Willa's ever heard) before either of them move.

"Come here." Shiv breaks their silence and leans back into the couch. She doesn't have the self control she likes to pretend she does. "Or do you need me to pay you first? I'll get my check book--"

"Fuck you." Willa spits back at her, throwing one of her legs over her lap and pushing her flat against the back of the couch.

Shiv grins at her.

"You're not the boss here Willa." Her hands come up to grip Willa's ass, and the question of whether she'd done this before is answered. Willa had figured, with the vaguely disinterested look she gave even her husband. No straight woman would marry Tom anyway.

Shiv leans up and starts kissing her neck, bypassing her lips altogether, and fuck, maybe she's been fucking the wrong Roy sibling this whole time because Shiv clearly knows what she's doing. Her hands are steady on Willa's waist now, sneaking under her shirt, pressing hard enough to bruise, and her perfume is making Willa dizzy. 

Shiv draws back for a second just to look at her, and Willa hates that it makes her stomach flip, how Shiv looks like she wants to devour her. She had always been able to pack a punch with a single look, but having all that intensity focused on her is like a drug. 

Willa seizes the opportunity to kiss her while she's still, because she thinks if Shiv had her way their lips wouldn't touch once tonight. Something about it being too intimate. Kissing her is a power move, probably the only one Willa will have a chance to make. She wants to kiss Shiv because it's something she can take, not because she's itching to. That was all Connor wanted to do: kiss kiss kiss. It made him seem needy. But Shiv was a harsh kisser, not sweet and immature. Willa was sure her lips would be bruised tomorrow from the pressure; they already burned a bit from Shiv's teeth tugging on them. It felt good, made her seem more like a real person who bled and felt pain like everyone else. 

She couldn't keep Shiv's lips on hers for long though, not when she got a good grip on her jaw and tilted her head so she could kiss and bite at her neck again. Thankfully she wasn't biting to bruise, only irritating the skin enough to make Willa pant. She was quickly turning into putty in her hands, ready to be molded and played with as she pleased.

"Put your arms up." Shiv said, guiding the tank top Willa had on over her head. The cotton seemed like rags compared to what Shiv had on, and Willa was almost glad it was gone. She hadn't ever stopped feeling inferior around the Roys, and they hadn't done much to help with that. Shiv took a moment to look at her again, she couldn't take her eyes off her, her gaze raking up and down her exposed torso. Willa wasn't afraid to admit it was nice to be admired by someone as attractive as Shiv, and having her so captivated was doing wonders for her ego.

"You're too good for him." She said, running her hands across Willa's bare stomach and leaning down to kiss her chest. "He doesn't deserve this."

Willa wanted to tell her to shut up. Looking was fine, but her words were empty. Especially when she would leave in an hour and pretend none of this had ever happened.

_You don't deserve it either._

Shiv's mouth descends on her nipple, teasing it softly before tugging on it harshly, and Willa can't help the choked gasp she lets out. It's a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, something she hadn't gotten in months. She's a little surprised that Shiv is almost messy with her kisses, seemingly not worried about the state of her makeup or the wrinkles in her clothes from where Willa is clutching them in her fists. She'd expected Shiv to fuck like she fought, refined and cold and cunning. She hadn't completely abandoned that, what they were doing was nowhere near intimate or tender, but it was exponentially more passionate than she would've expected. 

"Get on your back." Shiv ordered, her hands twisting Willa's torso so she would fall off her lap and onto the cushions. Willa grabbed her hands with her own.

"Are we really gonna do this on the couch?" 

"I don't want to fuck on my brother's bed." Shiv grits out, digging her fingers into her hips in response. It makes Willa's skin erupt in goosebumps.

"You're fucking his girlfriend but his bed is the line?"

"Aren't you supposed to do what I want?" Shiv raises an eyebrow at her. 

Willa glares back at her, not budging.

"I'm kidding. I'm not that big of an asshole." A flash of sincerity crosses behind Shiv's eyes and Willa softens. _She knew that already. Right?_

She gives in and lets Shiv switch their positions, clutching onto her neck to steady herself. As if making up for the moment of intimacy, Shiv's hands are especially rough as they rip her silk pajama pants off. Thankfully the fabric doesn't tear, they're her favorites, and she hasn't been rich long enough that everything has become disposable.

Shiv sinks to her knees in front of Willa, yanking her towards the edge of the sofa. The movement burns the back of her thighs; it's not gentle, but she would've been shocked if it had been. Even on her knees Shiv is absolutely in control, no questions asked. There's a hand snaking up the outside of Willa's thigh that finds purchase on her belly and pushes her down flatter against the cushions. 

"What does he do to you?" Shiv asks.

"Um--" it feels like a betrayal to tell her, "I don't know, he keeps it pretty simple."

"Has he ever gone down on you?" Shiv's other hand is creeping dangerously high on her thigh now. 

"Sure, a few times." _Not that it was any good._ She doesn't say it, but Shiv knows anyway. 

Shiv stands and leans over her, so they're nearly nose to nose.

"Does he make you come?" 

Willa doesn't answer that, won't, because she still has some fucking self respect--

"Answer me." Shiv yanks her hair just on the painful side of pleasure. The noise that slips out of her must be enough to answer her question, because she strokes her scalp next. "Don't worry, I'll be better than him. I'll make you feel good." 

_No you won't._ Willa thinks, because she knows the second Shiv leaves she'll feel vaguely used and more than a little dumb for not stopping her. But Shiv's hands are pushing off her underwear, and Willa can't really blame herself for wanting to continue this.

"Don't tease." She manages to get out, even with Shiv's fingers firmly pressed against her clit.

"You'll get what you want eventually, trust me" She replies, but it's vaguely threatening, which is enough to prompt another wave of goosebumps across her skin.

All of the sudden Shiv is sliding a finger into her (she has the decency to warm her up first, which Willa appreciates) and a second one not long after. If the intent was to shut Willa up it's certainly working, because her brain is as useless as her limbs right now, only responding to the movement of Shiv's fingers inside of her. She's rolling her hips and they're both groaning, and Willa can tell they've both been starving for this. 

"Fuck." Shiv mutters when the first two buttons on her blouse rip and scatter onto the floor. Willa hadn't even realized how tightly she'd been holding the fabric covering Shiv's back.

"Sorry--" She half moans, even though she doesn't mean it. 

Shiv doesn't seem to care much though, because she pushes closer to Willa, chasing her as she slides backwards on the couch. Her free hand is planted firmly next to Willa's head, and the new leverage that provides her is enough to make Willa claw at her back again, sliding under the shirt to get at bare skin. They're breathing in each other's faces and it'd be so easy to capture Shiv's lips again, but she won't.

Willa's back arches as she comes, her fingers digging into the bare skin of Shiv's back. She wonders how she'll explain the marks to Tom just before her mind blanks. Out of spite, and because she knows Shiv will be pissed about it, she buries her face in Shiv's neck and clamps her lips shut to muffle the moan in her throat. Shiv is powerful, but she doesn't have any real leverage over her, so Willa can play around with her a bit more. She wants to be worshiped and praised, and Willa doesn't think she deserves that yet. The freedom is a breath of fresh air after months of fucking someone who funds her entire livelihood. No room for mistakes there.

Faintly, as she comes back to Earth, Willa swears she can hear clapping, and she wonders if she's gone completely insane before her eyes refocus and she realizes Connor's speech is over, and the applause was for him. _It'd be more appropriate to applaud Shiv. She's done more work in the last twenty minutes than Connor had in his life._ She doesn't even have enough time to finish thinking before Shiv jerks her fingers again, too harsh to be an accident and too soon after Willa's orgasm to be pleasurable. She's disoriented, still hazy, and it's too much. It makes tears gather in her eyes and the air in her throat catch, and she knows this is the punishment for being silent. 

Thankfully Shiv isn't cruel enough to jump right back in at the same intensity as before, and she has the decency to make sure Willa is ok with it before she moves her fingers again. But it's still too much, she's too sensitive for the touch to be wholly pleasurable. 

"If I make you come again do I have to pay double?" Shiv traces Willa's jaw with a sticky finger in a gesture that could've been sweet had they been anyone else. 

Willa can't will herself to reply so she just shakes her head. Shiv laughs and pulls her fingers out-- even that makes Willa jump-- and presses them to Willa's mouth. She accepts them without hesitation, enjoys the way Shiv can't keep her eyes off her lips. _No wonder Tom stays with her. When she's around you you don't want anything else._

It doesn't even matter that Shiv won't kiss her, or that she's still fully dressed, or that she'll leave in an hour, because she's lowering herself down Willa's body, down down down, and Willa can feel the tug of arousal in her belly start up again.

"I want you to ask me for it." Shiv says, practically breathing onto her cunt. She makes a small detour to Willa's thigh, biting at it sharply, enough to ensure it'll bruise in a few places.

 _I want I want I want._ Shiv is just as demanding as everyone else in her family.

"Please just do it." She must sound desperate enough to placate her because then Shiv is licking at her, strong and rhythmic. The pain gives way to pleasure and Shiv has to pin her hips down so she can work. It's been so long since Willa has had good sex that she's embarrassingly close already, not even a minute later. She has to bite her cheek until she tastes blood just to keep off the edge. 

It's unbearably hot, the image of Shiv holding her legs open, disheveled and turned on and so unlike the would've-been CEO and political analyst. Willa mourns for when this will be over, grieves the fact that there's no way she'll get to taste Shiv or make her fall apart even further. She can tell Shiv has a hand between her own legs, shoved down the front of her jeans like they're in high school, by the way she's rocking and losing her rhythm just a little. Willa moans at the sight.

Shiv flicks especially hard on her clit, and Willa's holding out by the tips of her fingers, trying to make this last.

" _Siobhan_ " she groans, not thinking about it. She's always hated that she went by Shiv, thought it was tacky. 

Shiv moans into her, moving her tongue in tighter circles until Willa can't keep herself together anymore and they're falling over the edge together. Talk about intimate. 

_Siobhan, Siobhan Siobhan._ The name keeps coming out of her mouth. 

They're clutching to each other, hands grasping to find purchase in hips and hair, tethering them to the earth as they fall.

 _You want to be known, to be cared for just as much as your brothers,_ Willa thinks. She'd never admit it any other time, but right then, lost in pleasure and without ego, it was clear: Shiv might've been the acceptable face in the Roy family, but she sure as hell wasn't the well adjusted, unaffected sibling she pretended to be.

Shiv slows to a lazy pace as they both come down, sated and tired. She'd realize what had just happened in a moment and close herself back up, stitch up all the open wounds she'd accidentally exposed, but for now they were at peace. She actually allows herself to rest her head against Willa's thigh for a second, breathing heavily against her skin. 

Then the moment is broken.

Shiv gets up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and cleaning the other one off with a napkin. She reaches for her bag on the side table, and Willa wants to tell her to put the fucking money away, because it feels like an insult. But she can't make herself say anything, not as Shiv writes the check, not as she throws her coat on over the ruined blouse, not as she puts the wine glasses on the counter and grabs her purse. Willa just sits there, silent through it all. 

Shiv doesn't say anything either, doesn't even say goodbye when she walks out of the door. Like it never happened. 

Once she's all alone again, the room silent and the TV screen prompting her to watch another video, Willa kind of wants to cry. She's sweaty and the air is heavy with sex and there's that stupid check on the table, and she hates herself for getting further entwined with the Roy family. 

She takes a shower to try and wash off the feeling, tries to be only a little disappointed that Shiv's perfume goes with it. Her skin is mottled with bruises on her inner thighs and fingerprints mark her hip bones. She'll have to come up with an excuse for why she can't sleep with Connor until they fade. More permanent than that though, is the tugging at the back of her neck, right at the tip of her spine. It's as if a bit Shiv had crawled inside her and set up residence there, constantly reminding her of what happened, how it felt. When she runs her soapy fingers over the skin she half expects to feel a bump or a wound or something to tell her that this is real. But it's smooth and untouched, like nothing ever happened. 

She thought about something Roman had said at Christmas last year, high off his ass. 

_"She wouldn't make a good Roy. She doesn't hate herself enough."_

That may have been true then, but fuck she's getting there.

**Author's Note:**

> well that happened!


End file.
